Monthly Archives: February 2012

One of my favorite things about where I went to school is that I now have friends living in countries all over the world and get to read their updates. The following is a story from one of those friends who currently lives in Egypt. If you enjoy this story, you can contact her through her blog – Out of Egypt.

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I thought it would be a typical Wednesday night at Contact. These middle schoolers are one of the LOUDEST and craziest group of kids I’ve ever worked with. They screamed through the games, goofed around during the music, and texted/talked while Jay was speaking.

Towards the end, Jay made a statement that sparked a question. The question came from Z (an 8th grader) and was basically, “Wait, so if Jesus is the only way to heaven, then what about all those other religions? Are you saying that all of them are going to hell?” Cautiously, Jay broached the answer… “Well, yes. Sadly there are so many “good people” who will never get to heaven because they haven’t placed their trust in Jesus.”

The color rushed to Z’s face as he cried out “That’s not fair!” He became very defensive as the discussion continued. “Well that’s what the Bible says,” he said, “but I know lots of friends who follow other religions and they have their own book that says something different. How can we say they’re going to hell then? It’s not fair.”

The questions immediately started firing, one after another. “What about babies? Do they go to heaven when they die?” “What about all the remote peoples in the world who have never heard of Jesus?” etc. etc. etc.

Poor Jay had been bombarded by a tsunami of difficult questions- all at the end of youth group time. I could tell he was completely overwhelmed. He suddenly paused all the questions and said, “Okay, hang on. Just let me pray and ask God for wisdom.” He stopped everything and asked God to come and help him explain some of these difficult concepts.

After the prayer, he said “It’s 8 o’clock, so if some of you need to go that’s fine. But you’re welcome to stay and talk.” Some kids left. Some lingered for a few minutes before their parents came to pick them up. After awhile there were eight left.

These eight weren’t going anywhere, not until they got some answers to their questions. I stayed and listened as the topics moved from one hard question to the next. Z grew more and more visibly upset. I prayed to myself, “Father, don’t let him walk away angry.” I went to the other room to text my roommates and asked them to pray from our apartment.

I came back into the discussion, and watched as Z’s face started to soften. His anger had subsided and turned to a heavy, heavy concern. I was completely humbled as these 8 students came to the stunning realization that people all around them were condemned to hell unless someone told them. I was in awe as the kids, after much heart-wrenching discussion, responded by joining hands and praying over their lost friends and inviting the Holy Spirit to come- asking Him to give them understanding and answers to their questions. Their true heart-felt prayers of complete and honest requests put me to shame. As I listened to them pray, I wanted to sit back and shut up and listen for hours. I found my heart erupting in joyous prayers of thanksgiving as I prayed,

I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.

As we wrapped up, we talked with the kids about what they wanted to do from here. They wanted to start meeting together once a week in a smaller setting to wrestle through some of these things. They didn’t want to leave until we had it settled. These 8 kids left at 9pm, a whole hour later than usual. Some of the same kids who are usually bolting out the door at 8oclock were glued to their seats this extraordinary night.

The students’ questions are still ringing in my head…. “But what about the people who’ve never heard? There are so many people out there who haven’t! How are they gonna know? How can WE tell them all??”

Where are you, O Church? Where are you going? Wake up to the call! As we sit in our comfortable chairs each week, there are countless dying and going to eternal death in hell and separation from the Father because they’ve never heard of the Son. And we wonder why kids/teenagers have such a hard time comprehending that God is real. If we all truly believed what we say we believe, would we not be MOVING? Would we not be moving out to the frontlines of our neighborhoods, schools, communities, and even to the ends of the earth to save the billions who are dying apart from the knowledge of the Son?

I am truly humbled tonight. I am thankful. Pray that what happened here tonight remains with these kids as they live day to day. Pray their passion only grows and spreads even to their peers within the middle school youth group. Pray that as they wrestle through these questions, they will respond, and lead others to JC.

An interesting side story during Jen’s journey in 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess is the process of international adoption she and her husband are going through. It pops up in random times and places during the book and adds a layer of richness as you get glimpses of their family life.

They’re adopting two children from Ethiopia and during the month Jen’s only eating seven foods, she breaks the fast one day by going to an Ethiopian restaurant with her friends. Her friends have taken up the food challenge, but in a modified form. They’re spending a month eating like the poor from different countries (which involves a lot of rice and beans).

Later that evening, Jen makes dinner for her kids. After serving up dinner, the kids are eating while she takes care of other household chores. She returns a few minutes later to find them, mysteriously, quickly finished with dinner. She asks if they ate it all and they end up guiltily confessing to throwing some of their dinner out because they didn’t have any ketchup.

Jen writes,

The chances my African children are going to bed hungry are so high I almost don’t need to waste a line space speculating.And tonight my kids here with me in the land of plenty threw away a pound of food because they didn’t have ketchup.How can we extract our children from this filthy engine where indulgence and ignorance and ungratefulness and waste are standard protocol? Where they know they can throw perfectly good food away because there is always more in the pantry?I wept for all my children tonight, my Ethiopian children orphaned by disease or hunger or poverty who will go to bed with no mother tonight and my biological children who will battle American complacency and overindulgence for the rest of their lives.I don’t know who I feel worse for.– Day 5

Our kids, growing up in the land of plenty, are expected to have a lifespan shorter than that of their parents because of how they’ve been gorged on our bounty.

Our kids, growing up in the land of plenty, don’t realize how blessed they are because they’re surrounded by it.

Our kids, growing up in the land of plenty, need parents and role models who take up the call to fast, to stand with the poor and oppressed. Who show them a way different from the way of the American Dream which is literally gorging them to death.

How do you model to those around you (children, fellow church goers) ways to break free from the trap of taking abundance for granted?

The first month of Jen Hatmaker’s Mutiny Against Excess is about reducing her intake of food. She cuts everything out of diet but seven food items: chicken, Eggs, whole-wheat bread, sweet potatoes, spinach, avocados, apples. Only water to drink and salt and pepper as seasoning. Right from the start she lets you know – she loves food and seasonings and sauces. This is a hard month for her.

On the first day of the mutiny, she’s looking longingly at a homemade cupcake sitting on her kitchen counter. (It’s there since her kids aren’t participating in this phase of 7). She writes,

It was strange not to pinch a bite off. I stared it down, trying to own it with my mind. I opened my pantry and uttered, ‘You’re dead to me.’ It was all bizarre.Which reminds me: I’m doing this for a reason. This is a fast, a major reduction of the endless possibilities that accompany my every meal. It is supposed to be uncomfortable and inconvenient. Not because I’m a narcissist but because the discomfort creates space for the Holy Spirit to move. This shake-up of my routine commands my attention. I can no longer default to normal, usual, mindless, thoughtless.

Normal. Usual. Mindless. Thoughtless.

I wish those weren’t words that describe exactly how I auto-pilot through the majority of my days.

Why do I stay up way too late watching TV?Because I always do – it’s my routine.

Why do I waste my lunch hour on Facebook and YouTube?Because I always do… what else would I do?

Why don’t I ever brainstorm ways to uniquely encourage my coworker or use my evening to engage with my neighbor?Because I’ve never done that… it would be different… weird.

For some reason, we’re afraid of the sort of emptiness that a break from the routine offers. We’re so used to living with our brains engaged in the “next normal thing” – we’re lost when the chance comes to imagine what kind of life we’d like to be living.

What Jen realizes during her month of eating only those seven foods is that while her palate most definitely gets bored, she feels so much better than when she was eating junk food. She says

After eating only whole foods and virtually no fast food, my pants are falling off. I feel energetic during my typical afternoon slump. My cheeks are rosy. My allergies disappeared. I haven’t had a single digestive issue. My canker sores went dormant. I swear, my eyes are whiter.

In short, her break from all but seven foods gives her the space to imagine life differently. To actually seethe difference in her body, energy level, and physical condition. And she likes what she sees.

I’ve noticed the same phenomenon as I’ve started trying to step aside from the “normal, usual, mindless, thoughtless” that tends to rule my days. Whether it’s in changing how I eat or calling a media fast on Sundays – it gives me a glimpse into what other types of lifestyle is possible.

I often like what I see.

Like Jen, a break from the normal, brainless, usual routine makes me question what I was putting in that routine in the first place.

Do you make space in your life for breaks from the routine? How do you allow yourself to imagine life differently or to implement changes?